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A belated (or be-earlied, if you celebrate the Chinese New Year) to you all.

Here are the words to the pseudo-haiku:

cleanslateku

january first
(reboot opportunity)
two thousand fourteen

Here are the words to the threefold acrostic:

THE EARTH & THE SPOON

The local SPACE & TIME become a sheathe
Enamel writhes & metal base enwreathes
A surface vessels & en-Abels slurp
Recall of stirs & Dempsey vs. Firpo
The mother & umbilicus part so
Here thrive a sun & son & song: très bon

Note two important corrections made on the last line. Shame on me for disagreement of subject and verb, and more shame for not having used accent grave originally…

And yes, dear readers & viewers: I am still stuck on spoon. [wry smile]

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Today is someone’s birthday. That’s always true; but today is the birthday, not only of my sister-in-law, not only of one of the friendliest residents of the retirement community where I work, but also of the woman who was my high school and college sweetheart. And since the page above, done near the end of the year, refers to her, and I’m thinking of her, now seems a good time to post this page.

Here are the words to the treble acrostic:

Caught in the rectangle seven now wait
One sop on Time couldn’t wait for the eighth
Syllogized vector sums wither inchoate
Inching tangentially wouldn’t you know it
Nillie alongside her Porche wears a bra
Even if doffable next Mardi Gras

It has been more than thirty-five years since I was an engineering student, and the meager knowledge I gathered then, about trigonometric functions and analytic geometry and integral equations and other such arcana, mostly withered. But the language of the mathematics stayed with me as a sort of circumstantial evidence that I am better off manipulating word arrays than differentials. Still, since I never punched through the walls between me-then and a master’s degree in systems and industrial engineering, there’s a dim yearning to get back to it and finish what I started. Alas, life is probably too short for me to do so.

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This is posted in haste on a borrowed laptop. It shows a woman warrior grappling with Death. The woman is derived from Cordwainer Smith’s D’Joan from his amazing story “The Dead Lady of Clown Town.” Smith derived D’Joan from Jeanne d’Arc, better known to people like me as Joan of Arc.

I may come back and add a transcription and/or annotation, but I felt a need to post NOW, but I have to leave for work in TWO MINUTES OR SO. Hope this pleases…

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Here is a remake in pencil of a page I did more than six years ago using an ultrafine Sharpie and Faber-Castell colored pens. You will see when comparing to the below original page that I changed a few of the words, and that I distilled the design elements to the essential and magic-realismed the girl into self-illumination.

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I THINK the remake is a significant improvement, but since I finished it less than an hour ago I might be too close to it to be objective enough to judge. I KNOW I can do better, and would have had I more time. Can’t wait to retire! [smiles]

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My superb friend Karen and her superb boyfriend Ed capture sea life on camera when they scuba-dive. Karen took the photo from which my drawing was derived. I have her gracious permission to use it; and it will get further use below in its reproduction to illustrate the difference between Art and Life:

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slumber rose off him like cold steam
he muttering “wig…thaw
wig.thaw
wig,”
and fluttering eyes made the muttering stop

she beside him propped on elbow leaned over him
and sight met sight and she asked him:
“what’s wigthaw, love?”

briefly he puzzled
then the browfurrow smoothed

“i said that? –it’s acronymical
comical really…”

they kissed and he continued,
“‘whatever is going to happen
has already happened.’ that’s spelled
dubya eye gee tee aitch
aitch ay aitch
and is pronounced ‘wigthaw.'”

they kissed again.

“you are odd-minded,” she opined.

“you had to say that,” he returned,
and kissed her again
as he must.

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Four years ago I kicked off my “Lives of the Eminent Poets of Greater Phoenix” with two of my favorite Valley Poets. One was Victoria Hoyt, with whom I’m co-featuring at the April 2014 edition of Balboa House Poetry. The other is the man I depicted above, Mr. Bill Campana, who, since George Carlin has passed, I am reasonably certain is the Funniest Man on Earth. Today is Bill’s birthday, and I wish him all the best.

Words:

Bluff, and stand-up-comical, and full of manic manna
It’s a wonder he’s still local–catch him if you can
Laudably SELF-AMPLIFIED: you will hear from this man
Las Vegas @ the Palace or perhaps the Tropicana

Bill commissioned a coffee mug from me, and says of my posted birthday wish for him, “thanks, gary. it’s muggier when i drink out of your coffee mug.” He uses lower case in his online communications, so as further tribute to him the title of this post is in lower case.

Last time I saw Bill was at the home of Julie Elefante and Robert Lee, and I took this picture of him:

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Again–Happy Birthday, Bill!

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Ansel Adams once said that were he confined to his house for the rest of his life, he’d still find rich and endless subject matter for his photography. Your humble narrator says that were he confined to the subject matter Spoon, Water, Glass, he’d find endless ways to beat a dead horse to the ground and beyond with those three elements alone. Luckily, this need never be put to the test, and shall not; and this day’s Evocation of the Three has a special guest with the reflectivity of glass, the fluidity of water and the wieldiness of a spoon.

Words, which may make more and more sense on successive rereadings:

Sipping’s an S-WORD that ends with a G
Parsing BANANAs divests them of peel
Ousting a despot brings more from the sea
Owning that Ownership has its rewards
Note that our s-words may morph into swords

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When you look in the mirror, do you see a lazy person, or do you see a person who hates laziness? Do you see both?

These two “digitally remastered” Blasts from the Past address the yin and yang of laziness. The design for “Laziness Deplored” was put on a T-Shirt and light-use worn for four years–it went well with a Hawaiian shirt. I also made a transfer of “Laziness Defended” but, fittingly, found myself too lazy to do the ironing. When I get around to it–2014 probably–I’ll wear that T-shirt to the ground, and maybe beneath it, if they bury me in it. But I hope to be too lazy to die.

On the other hand, I hope to be too unlazy to cease doing these pages, into which, to be melodramatic, I am putting my very soul. Please note that with “Laziness Deplored” I took the effort to make the double acrostic exact as to line length, meeting that criterion of a “true” acrostic. To find out how unlazy you have to be to do that, I cheerfully invite you to try it sometime..